


Ineffably Yours

by DarkShadows93



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Is Trying (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Crowley Has Long Hair (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Being a Demon (Good Omens), Demon Crowley (Good Omens), Human Aziraphale (Good Omens), Love Letters, M/M, Mutual Pining, Naga Crowley (Good Omens), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prompt Fic, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Sleep Paralysis Demon, Slow Burn, Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Tags May Change, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25945279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShadows93/pseuds/DarkShadows93
Summary: When Ezra Fell tried to sleep is when the demons came out to play. It was a demon that had been following him for ages. A serpent with soot-black scales running down his back, crimson red on his belly and the top off of a man with sculpted cheekbones, long auburn locks with elegant curls, endless golden eyes. There were times he had seen him with large raven black wings extended out in flight. The demon was by far the most beautiful thing Ezra had ever seen. It was a shame that he could only see him when he tried to sleep.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Gabriel (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 49





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!
> 
> This fic was inspired by Prompt 544 on tumblr by creativepromptsforwriting
> 
> "You were afraid of your sleep paralysis demon that would show up every night until you realized it was defending you from something else while you couldn't move."

When Ezra Fell tried to sleep is when the demons came out to play. It was a demon that had been following him for ages. A serpent with soot-black scales running down his back, crimson red on his belly and the top off of a man with sculpted cheekbones, long auburn locks with elegant curls, endless golden eyes. There were times he had seen him with large raven black wings extended out in flight. The demon was by far the most beautiful thing Ezra had ever seen. It was a shame that he could only see him when he tried to sleep. 

Ezra only knows him as his sleep paralysis demon. A nasty creature that was supposed to terrorize him at his weakest. Unable to move or scream, Ezra was supposed to watch the terrors until it faded. Terror only lasts as long as the demon wishes. Their arrangements only lasted a few minutes. He was lucky if it lasted thirty. But the demon failed at his job. His luxurious baritone voice was more of a song, trying to ease him. Sometimes he would just ramble but never once did his demon do him harm. 

If he could smile, Ezra wished he could smile when the demon grew flustered over at his attempts for conversation. The serpent gently coiled around him in a gentle embrace.

"I'm sorry, angel." His demon cooed, gently brushing away a curl with a clawed hand. From the first night, the demon had called him an angel. Perhaps as a placeholder for not knowing his name. Certainly not as a term of endearment or a compliment of appearances. Ezra believed he resembled an ill-placed nutria, large and short course platinum curls, and boring blue eyes. So the term angel was unnecessary and incorrect. 

"I wish you could just say something instead of looking like you're afraid of me."

_ Oh demon, I could never be afraid of you. You're so beautiful. Anyone would be a fool if they were scared of you _ Ezra thought, closing his eyes sadly. He wished he could do more. Wish he could run his fingers gently across the skin where it kisses his scales. In the years he had spent nights with the demon, from the briefest moments to the moments he had wished to last forever, Ezra felt he had learned more of the demon than he had of the few men he had dated. If it was possible to love a demon, Ezra would give up his entire heart to him. 

A warm breath ran across his cheek, the coils losing leaving his body cold. A gentle touch, a lingering sensation that left a gentle burn on his skin as the demon whispered, "Time to go for me to go, angel. See you tomorrow night. Sleep well and dream whatever you love best."

_ Till tomorrow, my dear _ Ezra thought as he watched the demon slither into the darkness and the cold embrace of sleep overtook him. Ezra dreamt of being able to talk to his demon and to finally embrace the warm coils of the serpent. 

*~~~~*

Ezra woke up with an old parchment curled up beneath his fingers. The paper smelt of sulphur and smoke, yellowed and charred from age. Written upon in rough black calligraphy by one who struggled to hold a pen with a claw. He sat up, choking on a breath as his eyes scanned the note. In the twenty years of the arrangement, neither he nor the demon tried to communicate. The demon only rambled to himself, wishing he would respond. All Ezra could do was stare, admire him and pray to the Heavens above that he would be granted to return the warm embrace of his demon.

How could he be so clever but yet so stupid not to think of this? Love was grown, maintained, and killed by letters. There were places devoted to love letters being left in the hope that their loved one would find it. But here his beautiful glorious demon was the first to make a move. 

He didn't realize he was trembling until his breaths came out in short huffs as he brought the yellowed letter up to his face. 

_ Angel, _

_ There is a saying with my kind that humans are just useless bags of meat. Their existence was to only keep us demons from being bored. From the beginning, Heaven and Hell had sent some of their kind to be an influence or to cause some trouble. I am no exception. I was there in Eden tempting Eve with the apple. I've watched civilizations rise and fall. Pestilence runs ravage in towns. Wars fought and won. I've seen the evil in humans, but I've also seen the good.  _

_ But by far, you, my glorious angel are the best I've seen so far. No words could express the adoration that I have for you. You are the first who never showed fear. No terror. No tears or silent pleads. You allowed me to talk. You allowed me to be different. I've met angels from Heaven, and they are not what you believe. Egotistical lot caught up in a plan that they couldn't know. You're better or at least I hope you are. For in my eyes, you're greater in beauty and virtue than any sodding Archangel in the sky.  _

_ If you could talk to me, even if it was just a single word my fears of you disregarding me in terror would melt away. For now, let this letter be a bridge of communication that we can't share. _

_ Ineffably yours, _

_ Crowley _

The letter slipped from his hands onto his lap, warmth filling his body in ways he had never felt before. His heart seemed to beat in ways where it felt like he was flying. Was this happening? Had his demon Crowley compared him to an Archangel of Heaven? Ezra blinked slowly, his hand grasping the letter bringing it to his chest like a precious treasure. 

"Crowley…" he breathed out in a whisper like a secret that wasn't meant to share. The mere name of his precious demon making his heart rush in an incorrigible beat.

"Crowley." Ezra repeated like a mantra to himself as he climbed from his tartan covered bed with a bright grin on his face, "His name is Crowley. How lovely… " he released a dreamy sigh as he couldn't help reading through the letter once more. 

He couldn't wait to write his reply. But first, the call of society awaits him. 

*~~~~~*

Ezra Fell owned an antique bookstore on a street corner in Soho. It was just him and his one employee Anathema Device. She was a nice girl who was fully invested in the occult and witchcraft. Perfect for a bookshop that hardly sold books.

The shop didn't sell because of the stock. He had plenty of stock. It was because Ezra couldn't put himself to part with any of his collections unless they truly deserve it. That was a rare occurrence in itself for there was no one in Soho or the entirety of England p that could care for his books as Ezra Fell did. 

The bell above the door rang as Ezra walked into the store. Anathema, reading one of her occult magazines pushed a small tray containing a chocolate scone and a cup of hot tea towards him. She turned the page, not looking up from the magazine as she said "You're late."

"Late?" Ezra replied as he took a sip of his tea and stared at the girl, "My dear child, I'm never late."

"Well, today you are. It's nine o' five. You're always here by eight-forty five."

"It's not-" Ezra briefly glanced at his watch, frowning slightly at the time. Anathema was correct. It was indeed five minutes past nine, "Oh my, I guess I am. Please accept my dearest apologies."

Anathema gives a slight wave as she pushes up her glasses then glances up smirking, "So what happened last night? You're blushing."

"I'm what?" Ezra coughed, dabbing his lips with a napkin. He must've been daydreaming of Crowley or something. The memories of the letter making his stomach flutter in anticipation. 

"Blushing, Ezra. Did you finally have a date?" She slammed the magazine down excitedly as she leaned against the counter, "Oh! Did that hunk of a man- oh um… What was his name? Yes! Gabriel finally asked you out? I told you he had a thing for you. Go on, tell me."

"No. I did not have a date." Ezra said flatly, staring at his scone. His stomach suddenly growing sour at the thought of the pompous egotistical man taking him out on a date, "Frankly, I don't see why any of this is your concern."

"Because I'm your friend and worry about you. Ezra, you can't spend the rest of your life in a-" the bell of the shop rang throughout the shop. Anathema glances up to the door and motions, "And speak of the stars, it's-"

"Ezra!" The posh American accent echoed with resounding power throughout the shop, "Just the man I wanted to see."

"Good morning, Gabriel." Ezra greeted flatly, glaring at Anathema who suddenly seemed to grow shy and back away from the pair, "I'm sorry to inform you that the shop doesn't open for another-" a glance at his watch hoping to have at least another fifteen minutes without him in his presence. Perfect, "twenty minutes."

"Nonsense." 

A cold shiver ran down Ezra's spine as Gabriel snapped his fingers. He felt compelled to lick his lips as they tingled from unknown energy.

"Maybe your watch is wrong."

"Impossible. My watch is always-" panic set in as Ezra quickly glanced at his watch. Panic turned into confusion as the time read thirty past the hour instead of ten past, "Impossible. No, that can't be."

"So, I believe that you're open?" Gabriel asked hopefully bearing a Pan Am smile

"I guess that I am." The words didn't seem to feel right as they slipped from his lips. There was no way that his watch would be off that much, "What can I help you with today, Gabriel?"

"Excellent." The smile never faltered not even once, "I'm here today seeing if I can inquire about a book."

"If it's about the Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, witch then I'm afraid for the billion time this month to say that I don't have it." Ezra's voice went bitter, spiteful even. But even if he had that book, Gabriel didn't appear to be the sort of man that would care for it underneath his expensive tailor-made suits. 

"Actually." Gabriel held up a finger in protest, "It's not. I'm looking for an 1834 Herbert 164 breeches bible. I believe o saw one on the site?" 

Ezra released a designated groan on the mention of the internet site. Anathema was so keen to have when she was hired five years prior. Since then, he had several first editions get ripped away from him from online orders that he had to pose numerous times as a well-known antiquity dealer to get them back. 

"Oh yes, I'm afraid that was sold yesterday." Ezra lied as he placed his hands behind his back, "Is there anything else that I can help you with?"

"Hm." Gabriel purred as he raised an eyebrow, his amethyst eyes appearing to stare right through him, "and you haven't updated the site yet?"

"Oh, I have been quite busy." He swallowed turning his gaze away before releasing a nervous laugh, "Such the life of a shopkeep you know."

"I see…" Gabriel chuckles softly to himself as he straightens his jacket before reaching over to adjust Ezra's tartan tie, "Well thank you, Mister Fell. Do you mind if I…?"

"Peruse around?" He hisses as he steps away and motions around, "please be my guest."

Ezra quickly turned away from the man as fast as he was possibly able. Gabriel was the type of man who could ruin one's lunch in a heartbeat and make you feel like you are the daftest person in the room while believing they have been the greatest thing since The Queen's Christmas speech. It could be an American thing but he wasn't quite sure. Surely Americans weren't that deplorable. 

"Dear Lord…" he mumbled, shuddering in disgust at the proximity they share, "I don't see what he-"

"I saw that." Anathema pulled a book from a shelf to look at him from the other side, "That couldn't look anymore awkward."

"And you said he had a thing for me." Ezra hissed as he watched Gabriel slide into the religious tomes section, "He's just- I don't know what. Insufferable? I still don't know what he did to my watch!"

"Your watch?" 

"My watch seemed to have gained twenty minutes. It was ten after one second and then it was thirty past another" he held up his watch showing the time, "This thing has never failed me and Gabriel blamed it being broken. Impossible! I just got back from the shop last week!"

Anathema tapped her lip in thought, her round glasses slipping down her nose as she hummed softly, "That would explain the energy I felt. I'll have to look into that. "

"Please." Ezra pleaded as Gabriel emerged from the religious tome section carrying a well-used book.

"Don't worry." Her brown eyes narrowing as she tried to read his aura, only blinking rapidly in distress, "Odd. I can't see his- I'll get back to you."

"Oh, bless you, child. Truly." 

Anathema gave a worried smile as she placed the book back onto the shelf, forcing Ezra to interact with the American. For once, he wished that Anathema would cure herself of sudden shyness syndrome and do her share when it came to dealing with him. Putting on a fake smile, Ezra walked towards the counter just as Gabriel set the exact copy of the bible he was looking for before him.

Ezra suddenly felt uncomfortable, his tie suddenly feeling a tad too tight for his liking, "Found everything alright?" 

Gabriel's Pan Am smile never faltered, reminding him of creepy clowns he saw as a child believing there was a monster hidden behind purple eyes. It took a while for Gabriel to respond, his fingers only tapping on the cracked leather binding "Truthful lips will be established forever, but a lying tongue is for the moment.'

Ezra watched as the American left silently, leaving him with the old bible and a terrible sense of dread. It was a verse of the twelfth chapter of Proverbs. Further proving that his lie was exposed.

He swallowed, loosening up his tie as he picked up the bible to put it back with the other bibles. As Ezra walked to the section, a slip of paper fell out from the weathered book falling daintily onto the floor like a feather onto his foot. Curious, he bent down to grab it. The paper is soft as downy and smelt sweet of ambrosia. The handwriting was flowery with long delicate strokes. The words written on the paper were the opposite of such. 

Ezra choked, releasing a strangled cry as he committed the major sin of allowing the book to fall from his hands "Anathema!"

"What?" Anathema peaked her head from behind the occult section. Her hands full of books on angelic prophecies and meditations, "Ezra, what happened? Did Gabriel commit the sin of 'Thou shalt not drop a book onto the floor without picking it up' ?"

"What? Sorry?" Ezra shook his head as he quickly grabbed the bible from the floor, "No. Dear child no… I just- erm just- here. Read."

Anathema snatched the paper from Ezra with lightning speed. Humming softly as she pushed up her glasses to read. He watched as her expression remained neutral before turning to an expression that he couldn't read. 

"Oh, dear stars…." She finally muttered, her eyes not leaving the paper. 

"I know… it's terrible." Ezra sighs, glad that she saw the note as horrible as he did, "How does he believe he can get-"

"Ezra, do you know what this means?" Her face finally brightened an ecstatic grin that made Ezra squirm at the thought of the note, "He finally asked you out on a date. See I told you he had a thing for you! Having dinner at the Ritz? How romantic."

"Oh, oh dear…" Ezra groaned as he hid his face in the bible. It was no way in the Heavens that he would have the desire to date the American, not when his heart was set on a someone he could only see at night. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't he just find a way to be with Crowley? He would rather dine at the Ritz or walk around St James' park with him. Gabriel wouldn't compare to the joy that even staring in Crowley's golden eyes brings. At least he could spend the night with his demon before having to deal with Gabriel and his cold amethyst eyes.

" I was afraid you were going to say that."


	2. Chapter 2

He was a fool for accepting the date. Ezra knew that much. His stomach churned, leaving a sour taste in his mouth at the thought of it. Ezra tried to smile, giving a cutesy wave as he watched Gabriel leave his humble shop for the second time, this time expecting an answer.

Ezra was determined to refuse, call him an arse and tell him he was not allowed back into the shop for as long it was under his care. Dear Anathema convinced him to do otherwise since at one point Ezra did confess an attraction (even though it had long since faded at that point) and it was possible that Gabriel in the shop was a different man on a date. He also shouldn't be quick to judge on his repetitive orders and be nice towards the American instead of being a twat.

Ezra sighs, lowering his hand as Gabriel was out of view. He clenched his eyes shut as he rubbed his face mumbling into his palm "Well that went down like a lead balloon…"

Anathema glanced at him, eyebrow raised, "Sorry? What was that?"

He rested his hand on his collarbone, already regretting the decision. Ezra wanted to run out of the shop to decline and explain that his heart belonged to another (regardless if it was doomed from the start).

Running his fingers through his platinum curls, Ezra couldn't help but to try to get out of this,"I said that went down like a lead balloon."

She chuckles as she leans her head against him, "You need to quit thinking the world is going to end if you go on a date with someone. Who knows? It's said that everyone has a soul mate, you just don't know who they are."

"You got that from one of your occult magazines, my dear" Ezra rolled his eyes, chuckling to himself as he went to flip the open sign to close, " but rest assured there is no one possibly in this world that could be my soul mate."

He chewed on his lips as his thoughts drifted to Crowley. This demon could possibly be the one for him. But as he was a human and his beloved Crowley was a demon. There was no way it could possibly work. It would only cause more harm. Besides words were only just that- words. They could have a meaning that could break civilizations or make a heart swell with emotion. Being in love was supposed to be special and he couldn't think he would be able to love someone like Crowley. Ezra knew he should settle for being alone with his finite lifespan.

_ Change the subject, foolish Ezra. It's never going to work. _

Ezra licked his lips, putting on a fake smile as he turned to face his dear colleague, "How about we go get some dinner? I've heard there is a restaurant just down the street that makes these delightful crepes."

Anathema only responded by folding her arms across her chest in disapproval, a wordless reply that told him that she wasn't quite done with dropping the subject. Ezra nervously walks over to the coat rack to grab his beloved cream-colored jacket, "Will it sweeten the deal if I offer to pay?"

Anathema groans as she breaks her composure making Ezra grin at the sight of her weakness of free food, "You're insufferable, Ezra Fell."

"Well, I must be tolerable if you're willing to stand my presence after all these years." Ezra chuckled as he offered his arm to the young woman. The mere attempt of a joke failing as Anathema glanced at him briefly.

"Do shut up, Ezra before I change my mind," Anathema laughs, smacking his chest playfully before taking his arm allowing him to lead her out of the store into the late August heat.

*~~~~~~*

The night seemed to melt away some of the stress and worries of the day. A belly full of delectable wine and sweet wine made his body sluggish and ready for bed. Though he had to do one last thing before turning in for the night and that was to write out his reply to Crowley. 

By candlelight on his antique desk, Ezra wrote out a reply worthy of a demon and his affection. His eyes started to grow heavy and sluggish. He could barely read his own letter to ensure its perfection. All of his hopes and desires destined by this one letter.

_ Just a small kip… just a few minutes… _ Ezra thought as he sat his pen down and rested his head against his desk. The candle flame flickers by a rush of air, warm as a summer breeze. A whisper of a hiss filled the silent room as a being slithered into existence. A shimmer of auburn strands resembled burning gold in the candlelight. Ruby and obsidian scales glimmer like gemstones as topaz eyes glowed brightly. 

Crowley chuckled as he slithered, his clawed hands running down his back easing a soft breath out of the human. With a serpent's curiosity, he transformed into a smaller serpent climbing up the desk like he did at Eden. His smooth body climbed up the angel's arm, coiling around his wrist like a bracelet as he rested his head atop his hand watching for the cerulean blue eyes to open. 

The serpent nudged his head against the angel's nose, taking in the scent of chocolate and old books. His tongue flicked towards the soft pink lips, the taste of chocolate filling his senses making his cold body warm. A sigh escapes from the serpent as he nudged against his cheek, the yearning of being able to kiss him torturing him from the inside out. A human and a demon were doomed from the start. A remnant of Romeo and Juliet where no matter how hard they would try. They would be dead in the end. Hell would claim his human's soul, torture him till he was unrecognizable. The day he curses his name for loving him would be the day Crowley would die in a pool of Holy Water. 

The risks were too great. His angel, as human as he was, deserved to spread his wings to fly in the stars instead of being trapped in a damp cellar of Hell with him. Crowley could love his angel all he wants, but the angel should never love him in return. 

Another breath, warm and sweet brushed across his head causing ;Crowley to hum in delight. If serpents could smile, Crowley would be beaming the moment he looked into the sea of blue.

"Hello, angel…" He breathed out as he nudged his head against his cheek. His angel blinked rapidly in confusion, eyes shifting as he stared at his form, "Oh … um sorry. I'm here." He bobs his serpentine head around, "I couldn't help myself. You…you're- gah. You looked so peaceful. So… um- heavenly. I couldn't help to- " he releases a gentle hiss as he shakes his head, his blood-red scales, a shade darker than usual, "You look uncomfortable. Do you want to be moved to the sofa or to bed? Blink once for sofa. Blink twice for bed."

Crowley tilted his head softly watching the pale complexion of his angel turn a brilliant shade of crimson. He clenched his eyes shut, making his eyes difficult to read.

"Or you can stay there? But I'm sure you're not going to like the neck pain in the morning."

The angel responded with a protesting grunt, his face growing a darker shade of red as he quickly blinked his eyes once.

The serpent laughs unwinding himself from the wrist, slithering up his arm, down his back onto the floor. His body was already shifting the moment his head touched the floor. It was always jarring turning back to his hybrid form, his body permanently trapped from his former angel and his demon shape. Demons weren't meant to be pretty. They were supposed to be menacing and panic-inducing. Crowley still has a wave of panic every time he comes near his angel, waiting for the day where he became fearful of his existence. Hoping it would never come. 

He stared at his black gagged claws, watching them as they flexed, digging into his palms. The pain reminding him he could never be like his angel. Beautiful as the countless nebulas and galaxies he had once created. Skin smooth as the finest silks and eyes like the endless seas. Crowley was a monster. That's all he'll ever be.

"I-" Crowley clenched his fists, biting back words as he tugged at the chair. He gave a fanged sad smile, "Alright, up you go." Angel fit perfectly in his arms. His body is the missing piece in the puzzle of his soul. Crowley glanced down seeing Angel closing his eyes burying his face into the base of his neck.

A breath caught in his chest, making him weightless as he climbed onto the sofa. His coal-black wings emerged covering them both like a warm blanket. Crowley softly sighed kissing the curls, holding him tight. 

"I wish I could be like you…" He admitted into the curls, his voice, a broken whisper, "Maybe things would be different if I was, eh? I wouldn't have to see you at night. I would know your name. Which… I hope you wrote back. But-uh-" Crowley sighs again, a finger gently running its claw down Angel's back, "But if you didn't, I would understand. It's not like I haven't felt rejection before…"

The only sounds fighting off the silence were the whisper of breaths between two beings. One of them being mortal. The other occult. Breaths in tune with each other. Crowley kept his eyes on his angel, smiling sadly as he thought of those what-ifs.

Angel tried to tell him something, his eyes doing a sort of dance that Crowley couldn't understand. Crowley cupped his angel's cheek, "I wish I could understand you. It's hard being so close to someone and the only thing that we've come close to talking was a few grunts and fluttering eyelids."

Angel slowly blinked, eyes brimming with tears. Crowley's brow furrowed a claw wiping away a stray tear, "Angel? Angel, what's wrong? Go-Sat-  _ someone _ ! " panic rose in his chest like acid. He was drowning with no way out. As if the Dukes of Hell heard his prayer, twisted it, and threw it in a woodchipper, Crowley felt his fears coming true before his eyes. His angel was afraid. The more his clawed hand wiped at the tears, the more they ran down his cheeks like a stream.

"Angel- I- Gah! I wish you could speak to me! I want to help you. Let me help… please. I want to make this all better. I'll do whatever it takes. Angel, all I want to do is make you happy. All I want to do is l-"

A dark menacing note, low and never-ending echoed through the depths of his mind. The dark sensation pulling him towards the shadows. No! Not now! It couldn't be time already! It felt like it had just begun! His angel needed him the most and here he was forced to hide like a coward in the shadows. Always running and never standing still. Crowley hissed clenching his eyes shut as he clung to his angel as his lifeline to a life he was never destined to have. 

"I would never bring harm to you, my angel. My heart. My entire being is devoted to you. I am at your command…" He whispered into his angel's ear, his lips brushing against his cheek, "as long as you so let me."

This night was particularly painful to leave than most. The warm tears of his angel having wet the part of skin just over his heart, making it ache as he thought of the end. End of everything. The end of his life.

"Till tomorrow, my universe…" Crowley replied with a broken whisper, pressing his lips against his cheek. His tail uncoiling around the angel as he laid him onto the sofa. Tears still glistened on Angel's face in the dim candlelight like fading stars. Crowley licked his lips as he lowered himself down to cup the angelic face, "May you dream of whatever you liked best and all of your wishes come true."

There was an unknown power that could be said of asking for wishes to come true. It was a silent prayer for anyone that would listen. If there was anything that Crowley would wish for it would be for the happiness of his angel. A simple ask that held a lot of meaning. 

His hand lingered a tad longer than expected. The low note growing louder with every second. The demon winced as he pulled away, snapping his fingers to have his angel covered with a soft blanket. Crowley waited for Angel to drift back to sleep, counting the soft breaths before turning to the dark corner of the room.

"Well back I go…" Crowley mumbled sadly as he slithered to the desk. He couldn't help but smile as he scanned a draft of a novel, the manuscript bounded with twine. His angel was a muse. A bringer and admirer of the arts. He silently prayed for the manuscript to be a best seller and admired by all. If it was another life, Crowley would help create galaxies in their honor.

As he reached for the candle to blow it out, Crowley’s eyes narrowed at a lined piece of parchment. Upon in black ink and in fine cursive read  _ My Dearest Crowley _ . A breath caught in his chest as he turned to glance at his angel, the sleeping form making his heart swell. 

_ Crowley, why the fuck are you stalling? We can't keep it open much longer.  _

Fucking Hell. Crowley hissed as he grabbed the piece of parchment and crawled towards the darkness. He flapped his wings to extinguish the flame as Crowley was absorbed by the night.

*~~~~*

The murky damp of Hell left a slimy taste in Crowley's mouth. The cold damp sensation left him in a sort of shock, the warmth of his angel's flat seeping from his skin in waves. Crowley glanced down at the parchment, protecting it from the dripping water in his claws. The parchment was nothing more than a simple piece of treasure that contained his whole world. 

"What the Heaven, Crowley?"

Crowley tightened his claws around the parchment, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the disposable demon, "What?"

"I was afraid you weren't comin' back. You've been spending more time out with the humans. What gives? Going a bit native?"

Native? Is that what it's called? Being in love with a human who can never love you back is called going native? Crowley scoffed as he slithered past the demon, "Please. Going native is the last thing you guys want."

"Then why did you ask for your human's stupid piece of paper to be uh- what's the word? Published?" 

The parchment nearly fell from his hands as he quickly turned to face the demon baring his fangs. The Bastards over in the request department were running their mouths again. As much as he tried to keep his secrets and desires hidden in the deepest parts of his mind, the Request Department always seemed to pry into his mind. The next thing would be that his prayers would be displayed on billboards and adverts in magazines.

"Sssshut your fucking mouth!"

"Whoa! Whoa! Don't kill the messenger here!" The demon staggered away from the serpent, pressing his back firmly against the wall, "I would be more worried for those who see it as a bad thing like Lord Hastur and Ligur. They've always seemed to be after you since you fucked up during the Flood."

"Oh, I can handle those bastardsss." 

"Uh… sure. But I be careful though, I've heard the higher ups are a bit cross with you."

"They're always cross with me…" Crowley rolled his eyes as he crawled into the crowded hallway. A horde of demons shambled slowly like zombies, blank stares reflecting empty minds. An occasional demon stopping at the 'Don't lick the wall' sign to lick it and shamble along. 

Crowley was proud to be the smartest demon in the room. His mind lucid and brimming with ideas. Hell, forbid he would end up being a zombie shambling around a damp cellar of an office waiting for Armageddon to arrive. It was a never-ending circle of shambling around filing paperwork and commanding the souls of the damned. At least Crowley was supposed to terrorize someone and not be sitting at a desk for eternity doing paperwork. There was only so much of seeing a demon improperly use a stapler to deliver a memo Crowley could take. The pure lack of any sort of collective brain cell in Hell could make Einstein weep. But it was Einstein who was the one who had stapled a memo to Crowley's forehead. The little bar in his forehead now a permanent nuisance in his skin like most demons that crossed his path.

At least stupidity was only a temporary experience. Unless he was wanted, Crowley quickly escaped to the Flats of Hell where not even a clever demon (if there was one) would dare to wander. The Flats of Hell was nothing more than a long, flat piece of vinyl flooring, corroded by the leaking ceiling. There were no walls, no windows, or doors. It was indeed  _ flat _ and rather boring. Perfect for when it was deemed the sleeping quarters for most demons of Hell. But as Hell was a never-ending corporate Hellscape, demons found the idea of resting just as fearful as pissing off the head bosses. Crowley, on the other hand, found it perfect as his dwelling.

It wasn't much of a dwelling but it protected him from the annoying drops of rain. Four walls constructed from dilapidated pieces of fabric held up by scotch tape and staples. It smelt of mildew and sulfur making Crowley's stomach churn in disgust as he crawled into his dwelling. A few drops of water dripped into his hands as he opened his claws to stare longingly at the feather-light cursive of his angel. His name now meaning so much more in life when written by an Angel of Earth. 

"My Dearest Crowley…" He breathed out in a single breath, his topaz eyes rereading the precious words until they were committed to memory. A gentle smile blossomed upon his lips as he raked a claw against his name. 

There was a sort of fear Crowley had that prevented him from reading past his name. Fear of rejection. Fear of the idea that his angel did not have the same devotion he had for him. A fear that his affection could be returned but afraid of what comes next. As much as Crowley wanted the affections to be returned, it was the principle of their existence that stopped them. A human should love their own. A demon was there to tempt them into falling.

But as impossible as it was for a demon to fall for a human, Crowley took a shallow breath and plunged into the ethereal words of his beloved angel. 

_ My Dearest Crowley, _

_ How does one reply to a letter that was affectionately written as yours? Though I had my doubts that affections could be shared between two different beings. One of the occult and the other mortal. Does the heart tremble at the thought of these emotions? Mine surely does at the mere thought of you.  _

_ You had asked aloud numerous nights why I wasn't afraid of you. The question seemed to plague you for the brief moments we are together. I wish I was able to speak to ease your worries. But alas, I must share it in this letter. The answer is simple, my dear. You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on. Behind the harsh exterior and serpentine eyes, I could see an angel who had lost their way. You're kind and warm-hearted. You are more human than any other human I've met. My heart breaks for you as you tell me about your struggles. I may not be able to reply and move but I listen to every word. Your colleagues sound like real monsters.  _

_ Why can't the demons in Hell be as kind as you? Your gentle touch upon my cheek, the soft feathers around my body remind me of a cool autumn night in the arms of the person I admire most. If there must be a comparison to angels, you are one among them. Your soul and beauty leave me breathless. God, herself had made a horrible mistake for casting you down to the deepest pits. But my love, answer me this. Why must our moments be so brief? It is like a fleeting cool summer breeze. One could simply not get enough of it.  _

_ But as I start to conclude this letter, I do hope it relieves your worries. I would never be afraid of you for I share the same affections. It is as if I've known you my entire existence. I pray that one day I would be able to share a conversation with you so that we can share our affection together. Till tomorrow, I shall dream of you and your embrace.  _

_ Ineffably yours.  _

_ Your Angel, _

_ Ezra Fell _

The letter seemed to slip from his claws like a feather from his wings. Crowley quickly reached for it before it landed in a murky puddle, his eyes scanning over the words once more. One word giving him a sense of dread.  _ Love _ . His angel, his Ezra had called him my love. The word love alone giving him a clear definition of his returned affections. Ezra Fell, the human Crowley had ultimately fallen in love with, discretely said he loved him. 

"Oh, Ezra… you draft, stubborn man." Crowley whispered as he shook his head, "You shouldn't have said that."

"Crowley! I know you're in there, flash bastard." Duke Hastur yelled laughing as he pulled open the wall of the dwelling, "Figured you'd be hiding."

"Oh fuck off Hastur, would you?" Crowley quickly hid the note beneath his scaley form, "Don't you have Einstein or another one of those disposable demons to torture?"

"Why torture them when I can torture you?" The frog atop his head seemed to croak loudly as Hastur flicked a finger at the tattered fabric "But that isn't what I'm here for, Crowley."

"Oh? Here for a chat then? Why don't you sit yourself down, and I'll make you some piss poor coffee." Crowley's tail twitched, slowly coiling itself around Hastur's ankles tightly before giving it a gentle tug "Would you like some sugar or a touch of 'leave me the fuck alone'?"

Hastur fell back into the murky water, the frog nearly tumbling off the Duke's head as Crowley hissed loudly. The Duke bit back a groan as he sat up, brushing the droplets off his sleeve, "That wasn't very nice, Crowley."

"I can do worse if you'd like, Hastur." Poison dripped from his fangs as Crowley brought up his tail to strike, "Last warning."

"The lack of trust is astounding, Crowley. What happened to honor amongst men?

"We're demons. There is no honor between us."

"Point proven." Hastur growled as he stood onto his feet, "As much as I would love to finish our scuffle and torture, I have come to deliver something."

"I swear to someone if you staple another memo on my head, Hastur. You will get more than an inconvenient bite wound."

"No, it's not a memo. Beelzebub would like a word."

"So I've heard."

" _ Now _ , Crowley."

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of Ineffably Yours. I couldn't have done this without the loving support of the Ineffable Husbands Ao3 group on facebook. They're seriously the best.
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @ darkshadows93


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